


Lobbed Dabble Spider

by everythursday



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythursday/pseuds/everythursday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a Ministry holiday party, Draco and Hermione get a taste of payback.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lobbed Dabble Spider

Candles hovered near the ceiling, tiny lights moved through the pine branches of colored trees, and tinsel swooped from the walls and lined the tables. Enchanted mistletoe wandered the vast room, and a mound of presents were being readied in numbered order for the raffle. Various food and drinks were laid out, where the unknowing, cautious, and adventurous made their choices, while laughter and conversation from the dining tables and standing groups of friends and co-workers filled the air.

The annual Ministry holiday party was not something to be taken lightly. Hermione had endured a few of them to learn that lesson, and one very abysmal night to learn that attempting to change that fact would only be met with a vengeance of mischievous traditionalists who took great joy in redefining her levels of embarrassment. She ate before she came, she brought her own wine and kept it in her bag, she knew what people to avoid getting close to, and she kept her wand close at hand.

After she had become confident of her safety within these guards, she had found the party's silver lining. Last year someone had enchanted elf hats that gave the wearer a strong desire to obey anything that was asked of them, forcing them to dance a jig if they refused. They were nothing out of the ordinary in the mix of other enchanted objects, trick presents, charmed food, and everything else she stayed clear of, but they had somehow found their way onto the heads of four people on the board of Regulation. Hermione had made an impassioned speech on house-elves in her meeting with them the next day, securing the majority vote of four to push her proposals through, and had promptly sent a bottle of champagne to thank herself.

While she did her best to help her friends and the innocent when they fell into a trap of trickery, other times she sat back and watched it happen. This was especially true of those who had laughed their way through her first few parties. Yet there were few who had come before that moment that she enjoyed as much as Draco Malfoy.

Ron was grinning into his cup on the other side of the table, Neville standing next to him looking worriedly at the bowls of beverages. A small audience had gathered around Malfoy while others shot conspicuous glances from their huddles, too cautious of him to have their attention or amusement noticed. Luna was nodding her head at everything he said, and Malfoy studied her for a moment before his gaze grew sharp in its scan of the people around him.

Hermione stifled her grin, winding her way forward through the crowd. Perhaps if Malfoy had come to one in the five years he'd been working for the Ministry, or stayed longer than ten minutes last year, he would have observed enough to have fair warning. She might have even warning him herself if he wasn't so infuriatingly _irritating_ all the time.

“But his gin vat?” Malfoy snapped.

“I've got this,” Hermione declared, sliding around Luna. “It seems he's under the influence of something. I've studied this extensively.”

Malfoy's shoulders tensed more as his eyes landed on her, his jaw tight. “Done one fun gut upset fa la la la la crab lobster revel midge fin guy sink! Shark!”

His hand jerked to the table, an amber liquid sloshing over the rim of his goblet and onto the shine of his shoes before he slammed the goblet down, but he didn't seem to notice. It smelled of apples and cinnamon, undoubtedly a cup of the apple cider being offered. Unfortunately for Malfoy and very fortunately for her, it seemed his drink had been spiked with a Babbling brew. There were worse things he could have encountered at the party, but she had a feeling Malfoy would take that small comfort and blast it to bits with his wand if he could.

Hermione nodded slowly, humming. “Yes, good, I'm glad you're out with it now. Keep going, Malfoy.”

“Hut does boo beam, leap bong?” he growled, and she had to press her lips together from his asking something ridiculous with so much outrage.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he made a harsh sound before shoving his fingers through his hair. She knew he was at the peak of his frustration when he did that, platinum locks pushed out of its careful styling and into errant strands. She liked that she could do that to him, that she could get to him so much, and she didn't feel bad about it because his mouth always tilted whenever she got to poking at the air or him.

“Yes, I'll tell him.”

His eyes narrowed, eyebrows pushing together. “Gout growls doom slaying bats, manger sheep dog?”

Hermione bristled. He might have been using rhymes and related words tangled up in rambling nonsense, but she knew the sound of an insult when she heard one. She lifted her chin and he lowered his, a warning sparking in his eyes as his mouth kept running away from him.

“Oh, right now?” she cut him off. “I think that will make Neville very uncomfortable. I know it's the holiday season and love is in the air and all, but—”

“ _What_?” Neville choked out somewhere behind her.

“Bye wear three swirling, tiff glue gay a bubble—” Malfoy clamped his mouth shut, his anger a physical thing in the air between them, and Hermione's chest seized at the laughter that slammed against it.

He'd be angrier tomorrow, and would either let it simmer into payback or come with an arsenal prepared for arguing. Arguing was nothing new between them, especially in the last few years, and had become something they both did exceptionally well. The first had been a blowout two weeks after he started working under Arthur, and the last had been yesterday, when he sent Aurors out to capture and detain an ill and confused Clabbert that was accidentally using its magic in _slightly_ illegal ways. This was her own payback, she figured, and it was just bad form to pay back a payback.

“No, I don't believe he is, but there's nothing wrong with your special feelings, Malfoy. Neville is a very sweet—”

He took a step toward her, and the look reddening his face and twitching a muscle in his cheek nearly had her stepping back. “Rut git, gore bloody tin macaroni snitch!”

“I agree, that robe matches his eyes perfectly, but maybe you—”

Malfoy's hand flashed out too quickly for her to react to it before his palm was wrapping warm around the nape of her neck. She was halfway through a fast breath of surprise when his lips hit hers. Hermione's hands shot up to his shoulders as his mouth opened to claim her lower lip, taking it three times as something sparked into her stomach with each tug. Her inhale was shuddering to fill her lungs, and then she kissed him back without thinking to, palms still keeping pressure at his shoulders.

Malfoy didn't seem to care, an arm moving around her as he took the small step to close the distance between their bodies. Her palms gave at the push of his tongue, her arms sliding over his shoulders to make fists of his clothes. She was pressed to him from chest to hips, he tasted like apples, and her heart was hammering in her ears.

“I don't know, Hermione, he seems fickle with his feelings.” Luna's voice filtered through, and it took Hermione a few seconds to register the words enough to rock back down to her heels.

The anger was gone from Malfoy's expression, his eyes dark as he looked down at her. Her blood felt like it was trembling around her bones as the heat hit her face. She licked lips dried from her hurried breaths, and he glanced down at the movement before taking his time on the way back up to her eyes.

“Shucking shell, stranger.”

“Matinee . . .” she started to whisper through her shock, but that hadn't been what she meant to say at all. The words kept coming, bubbling up from her throat, and her eyes widened as they spilled out without her allowing them to. “Fat . . . flu paved pea bits!”

Malfoy stared at her, then a slow grin began to spread across his mouth. “Jutting song, change? Bought gun—”

“Two blueprints frizz!”

The silence around them started breaking into whispers and words she didn't hear as she kept up her nonsensical argument with Malfoy. It took her a very long time to realize that she was doing it with his arm still around her and her fingers still clenching the fabric at his back. It might have also taken her a little longer than that to do anything about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Spiked apple cider
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
